VAHMPEERIGO..la lingua vampirismo

It it strange that no one ever remarked on this before, but vampires do have a dialect of their own. It contains vocabulary, syntax and grammar borrowed from various tongues. This is due to the fact that life-eaters tend to travel about. Most can sublimate or are privy to other rapid means of transportation. In one night they may hear Italian, Croatian and French. Others may flicker between Spanish, Portuguese and Arabic. The Romance languages tend to predominate due to their Latin origoions. Older vampires, who tend to influence the others, still remember Roman times, as well as the middle ages a period when educated individuals only spoke Latin.

I am familiar with Vahmpeerigo, Jonathon's dialect. It is largely an older form of Spanish, with an admixture of Arabic and Hebrew, plus a smattering of Portuguese. French and Italian words have also found their way into the mix.

Vampires from the eastern Mediterranean speak Koine-eeta, a Greek, Aramaic pastiche. Indeed, some scholars now believe that Aramaic itself was originally a life-eater dialect mixing Hebrew, Arabic, Syriac, Coptic and other forms. They taught it to the prophets of The Unitarian Testament, in a effort to expand the message and make iit understandable to a wider mix of people.

Other vampire linguistic forms exist in various locales. The regional tongues of Ancient China were married together by 'certain personnages' influential at court,  to become Mandarin. Similar things happened in Slavic speaking areas and among Germanic speakers, as well.

We see a related  thing happening in our own time. Television, the internet and other instantaneous methods of communication blur the lines between seperate, discreet languages. Mass migrations of people does the same thing. English itself, resulted from a mixing of Celtic, Latin, Germanic, and early French forms. In America, we're seeing a facile blending together of English and Spanish which has been going on since 'Wild West' times. Examples = Buckaroo/vaquero...ranch/rancho...pistol/pistola...and everybody knows what loco, rodeo and sombrero mean.

So, in many instances, vampires, due to their familiarity with different peoples and locales, often served as catalysts for progress, expansion and cultural evolution. And while technology fills a similar role today, the debt owed our nocturnal brethren is huge.

Adieus mameejos (adios mi amigos)...(so long, my friends)...Until we meet again. 

WELCOME TO THE WONDERLAND

Jonathon and Sarah walked across the vast, glossy floor, their bare feet padding on the cold, smooth surface. The man with the short, white beard smiled. He shook Jonathon's hand. For Sarah he had a curt, respectful nod.  He said - Well, now it begins. Would you care for any clothing?.......Yes please, - said Sarah. The breeze off the sea is quite chilly........And at that instant they were wrapped in the finest, light woolen, Alexandrian style garments. Snowy tunics fastened at the shoulder, topped by warm, soft cloaks, well made, lace- up sandals. The protection provided was quite comforting. Jonathon looked around the expansive, classic enclosure. Oh, he knew where they were...or where they were supposed to be......The Great Library of Alexandria, am I right? - he said.......Yes - answered the man with the short white beard. We find this space to be quite inspirational. The Ptolemies spent many hours here.........But it burned. There was a fire. It's been gone for over two thousand years? - asked Sarah.......The man just laughed politely and said - Gone? What thing is ever really truly gone.? Come, let us be seated......And they were. The table was long and highly polished. The three of them occupied one end. Sarah fingered the inlaid, Greek chairs. She quietly whispered - What kind of magic is this?......She turned to Jonathon and asked - Can Papa do this?.....But before he could answer, their 'mentor' said - This is not magic.......What is it? - Said Jonathon......This is power. - said the man......And he showed them scrolls filled with secret knowledge. He opened small, silver boxes, freeing the words of ancient philosophers for the two guests to hear. He spoke of  worlds beyond worlds and gestured into space, conjuring up dense, smoky, pale colored images of planets yet unknown.

Where are we? - asked Sarah.... You are in the Hall of the Mountain King - said the man.....And who is that? What is his name?- added Jonathon......But the man with the short white beard just laughed, as the room dripped away leaving them to float in a soft blue sky, powdered with cool, fluffy clouds. They looked down. But there was no down, just air and sky and clouds. The man was not with them, though they could hear his voice. It said - Every place is one place. And all time is but a heartbeat.........They embraced, suspended in that fashion for what felt like many, many heartbeats. Indeed, some might call it an eternitiy.

Space never ends and time is but an illusion. We merely  conceptualize things the way we do to keep from going insane. And now you know. Am I Zebulon? No. Am I Johannan? No. I am....and that is all you need to know. Now go. Click onto other sites. Examine other posts. Talk to your digital friends. But think about things. Think very carefully.....And will I be back?.....Well, perhaps that is not the proper qiestion...For in fact, where would I go?..........And once again...welcome to the wonderland.........

WAIT'LL 'ABNER' HEARS ABOUT THIS!!

We could not get anything out to you earlier. It was rough around here for a while. wilkravitz couldn't type nothing. He was helping. The elves were helping. Everybody was screamin,. The cops almost came. Can you imagine, cops, here? Jesus Christ (Who I've had the pleasure of meeting at a banquet or two), that's all we need!

This is what happened. It was pitch dark. She was out back. She was all alone. Then she starts screamin'. She yells - Help! Rape! Murder! Murder!.Help me! God help me! Help me!!! Only nobody was home here. Even the elves and cherubs were out flyin' 'round somewhere. Like pixies, they flit. You know how they go. But Evelyn, the bitch next door, the one that gives her kid shitty pizza, is out back a her house with them three turd factories she's got. Big monsters, huge, they slobber all over. They got this low rumbling bark. Worse than thunder it is. Saint Bernards, that's it! They're Saint Bernards.

So they come crashing through the hedge. Why not? She llets 'em crap over here anyway. All bellowin' and you know how their dog-lips flap all over? But the funny thing is they ain't even scared. Johnny Jump Up was out there! And we  don't even know what he is. Not for sure anyway. But to those horses he was just some funny thing that needed a little killin'. That's all. Simple. They dive right in. And we are talkin' about sixhundred and seventyfive pounds of dog flesh here. You know, momentum gotta count for something.

Then there was this big 'wuff.' That came outta Johnny. I saw him arc right up into the air. Don't know iif he jumped away, to like, you know, escape, or if the dogs did it. But those fat slob dogs are surprisingly light on their feet. And they rocket right after him. Two of 'em got him pinned up against this big, old tree. Everybody thrashin' around and thrashin' around. The third one (I always knew that one was a real killer) jumps up and locks its maw 'round his skinny throat. The neck too! The neck too! The whole clammy thing was in its mouth.  And its bitin'. And it's growlin. The other two are chompin' away at his legs. You know, givin' him the same as he was givin' Edith.

Big, phoney Evelyn comes runnin' over yellin' - What's a matter!? What's goin' on!? Who's screamin'? Oh, my God!  Oh, my God!.....She spots Edith, who's tryin' to sit up and steady herself. Only Edith is about to pass out, 'cause her leg is just gushing blood. I will say this though, that next door bitch did whip off her sweater and use it to hold back some of the blood. I gotta  give her credit  for that.

But then something really, really major happened. If they made a move outta it, they couldn't do better with CGI. The main dog, the killer dog bites Johnny's head off.  No, he does.It goes 'POP,' and flies right into the  bushes. The three beasts jump back real fast, as if to say - That ain't supposed to happen. So quick, like a bullet, like a jack rabbit or something, Johnny Jump Up's body goes skittering into the bushes, palms that nasty head (the teeth were still snapping)  tucks it up against his boney chest like a wide receiver and leaps  off through the trees.

I think Evelyn saw it. It was dark out there and I can't be sure. But I think so. Now you know she keeps little flasks of Jack hid all over that house a hers. So I'm hopin' she writes it all off as just another 'episode' or something. Anyway, Papa was back by then. He comes runnin out. Takes control real fast. Evelyn only wants to call 911. But Papa won't let her. You know that. Good thing she got the 'hots' for him. Edith is somewhat, partially back alive. She starts mumbling - I'm Ok. I'm OK. So Papa picks her up, carries her into the house, leans over and gives Evelyn a big wet one just as they're about to go inside. You know, like to thank her for bein' such a help. Think her knees almost buckled. But at least it made her forget about calling the cops and all. So she claps her hands  (I hate the way she does that) and rounds up the three monsters. They go home and that's it. Still didn't shit.

But don't get me wrong. Edith would have died. Only Papa gave her a little vampire style Gray's Anatomy magic. Laid her out on the leather sectional in the 'family room.' Bit into his finger to make it bleed. Shoved it down her throat. She starts suckin. And five minutes latter, leg is mostly all healed. Edith wants a glass  a cherry soda. wilkravitz comes in and mops up the blood. You know with good leather you can do that. You get what you pay for. A  couple elves start straightening up outside........And Johnny Jump Up? Who the hell knows?.....Only thing is...Evelyn starts makin' phone calls. You know Gladys Kravitz? No, she ain't related to wilkravitz! I'm talkin' 'bout the nosey neighbor woman on that 'Bewitched.' show.. Well, seems like we got one too.............

BAD LUCK FOR EDITH

This is Zebulon talkin' now. They got some big spiritual-educational hoo-haa goin on over in the Old World, or some place just over the rainbow from the Old World, so everybody's busy over there. Tonight, they ain't talkin'. You got me. Things are quiet here in Chestnut Hill. You know how it is  around Philadelphia this time a year. Sometimes you get a day when the sweat and grease just runs right off you. And other times everythings all nice and cool and ever-so-slightly damp. Today was one of the 'other' times and tonight was even better. Sky was calm, overcast, but calm. Twilight birds chirpin' away. Crickets playin' their little, squeeky cricket fiddles. Shame they only know one or two different tunes. Edith was sittin' out back. You see, they got this real nice, little patio off the kitchen with brick pavers, high priced, white lacquered metal patio furniture, some real big potted plants. There's a little fountain over by the corner and you can hear it gurgling even when you ain't lookin' at it. Think I saw that Martha Stewart woman on tv puttin' together somethin' just like it. What was Edith doin' out there? I don't know exactly. We had different vegetables when I was last in the flesh. But I think she was 'shellin'' some beans or somethin'. You know, they still had to buy food for the humans. wilkravitz ate. Edith ate. Them Red Paints (I think we got three now) know how to polish off a platter or two. Sometimes one a Papa's business 'familiars' will come by to talk money or something. You gotta offer 'em a cup a coffee and a piece a babka. Luna likes to try her hand in the kitchen when she feels like. Oh, she don't try to eat none of it. And she's better than the Old Woman (remember her?) and Annie used to be, or them elves used to be. Guess she still thinks about the stuff they used to feed her over at the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau.

But this time, Edith was all alone. The life-eaters were out alley-cattin' all over the place. The Red Paints were takin' one a their long, silent walks up and down Germantown Avenue, not talkin' to nobody (maybe they'd nod) and lookin' in the shop windows.It got dark, real dark, real fast. She didn't put no outside light on. What leaked out through the French doors was enough. Bugs weren't bitin' much. Reminded her of the Pines ('cept there the bugs never hold back). See, this part of Chestnut Hill, back by Glengary Road, got lotsa trees. And some a the big lots back up onto more trees. Think there's some kind of a park or an arboritum or somethin'. They say the park land snakes all the way through this municipality, till it peters out by Center City. That's why you see skunks and bobcats sneakin' 'round them fancy high-rises sometime. And it is also why certain Center City creatures occasionally show up in Chestnut Hill. This town is funny that way.

Edith was hummin' some old Piney hymn...'Source of Peace,'  I think it was. We had one like it back in Babylonia when I was a boy. 'Makor Shalom,' (Source of Peace) we called it. Tune was a little different though. She wasn't peelin' them beans no more. That bowl was sittin' on a table. Edith was just breathin' in and breathin' out, enjoyin' the night air. But that's when the shadows started playin' tricks with her. First it was a funny kind a shakin' out by the dogwood tree. Maybe a bird? Then it transformed into a skitterin' up on the conservatory roof. Raccoons sometimes did that. Finally she felt a little tickle-breeze on the back of her neck. She batted it away. Coulda been a moth. But the night spooks were gettin' to her. Bad enough sharin' a house with them refugees from some Abbott and Costello movie. She didn't need 'em out in the Lord's good fresh air too. So she hoisted herself up and made for the door. But before she could manage even two shufflin' steps, that God damned light in the kitchen went out. Just went pffft! Just like that. How come they never give you no warning?.......Shit - whispered Edith......Shit - whispered something right behind her. That caused her not so young heart to skip a beat. She called out for wilkravitz. She yelled - Wil! Wil!...But he warn't home. I think he was out on the Avenue too, maybe buyin' a magazine or somethin'. I know he's been talkin' 'bout goin' on horseback rides or pony rides. But I don't think they're open at night. So that thing behind her crouched down and grabbed her 'round one of her swollen ankles. She almost died. But it wasn't death. It was just one a them upper stomach hernias. Still, she did  lose her none too stable balance and smacked down real hard.  What a cryin' shame. Scrapped her chin, her palm, her elbow, right on the rough bricks. Edith tried to get up, only she was shakin' so bad and cryin. That's when the 'thing' sank its cold, sharp teeth right into the meat of her lower leg  A pathetic, visceral fear gripped her so hard, she couldn't even scream. But she did manage to raise her head a bit. And there on the shiny, starlit  surface of the glass panes on the French door, she could see it. She could see that boney Johnny Jump Up thing rippin' out chunks of her leg....  And them crickets never once stopped fiddlin'......

AN AUDIENCE WITH THE KING

Sarah and Jonathon held hands, as they ascended the wide, granite stairs. Huge, fatty torches mounted in crude iron holders bled scattered puddles of yellow light. An infinity of stone galleries pushed out from the walls. Exotic creatures leaned over to watch them. Were they human? Had they been human? After a fashion, I suppose. They had the usual compliment of centaurs  and centaurinas, satyrs and hypatias (the usually white coated, female variety). There were insect-winged pixies, elves, cherubs and some other gargoyle-like beings who I'm told descend from ancient Sumerian dieties. Some  of the notables assembled wore fine, glittery costumes. Others could not be bothered with such frivolities and made due with nothing at all.

As they approached the summit, as they neared the royal platform, the King and his throne expanded and grew in size, until they were as tiny mouseykins standing by his feet. The Monarch reched down and scooped them up. Our vampires wrapped themselves around the thick, strong fingers and held on tight, in fear that they might fall, or worse, that he might shake them off. But he brought the wide-eyed specimens up to his well-formed face, the better to examine them. In a low whisper he said - Remove all fabricated membranes....And they did, taking special care not to slide off.. Then he ordered them to raise their arms and twirl around a bit, so that he might definitively identify therir species and gender. After a few heartbeats he playfully poked them with the index finger of his free hand and said - Ah, yes, altered humans, just as I anticipated. Here, Lady Maud, see what you think.......An equally enlarged woman stepped round from behind his throne. She had fine, porcelain skin, a delicate face and slim, poetic arms. The King carefully transfered each 'altered-human' into Lady Maud's soft, dry hands. Now to be truthful, certain of her features were a bit strange, especially when you take into consideration the fact that they were Statue of Liberty sized. Her eyes bulged out, encompassing the whole upper half of her face, for they were bugs eyes and possessed of a terrible, repulsive beauty. Sarah almost fainted. But that only made the deformed giantess laugh. And the assorted monstrosities in the galleries (both handsome and not so handsome) joined in........Then the King said - Go ahead, taste one.......So she shrugged her shoulders, cocked her head to the side, pinched Jonathon between her thumb and index finger and popped him right into her mouth. If still completely human and not mercifully 'altered,' he would have dropped dead right then and there. Believe me. He wanted to. But he did not. So he stayed awake and aware, as she rolled him round on her tongue, the better to savor his flavor. My, my, my, what big teeth she had. And the back sides (the part that did not show) were liberally caked with rough, stinking tartar. Jonathon expected to be gulped down into an acidy pit at any moment. Yet that did not happen. For she daintily spit him out into a polished golden bowl and pronounced him a 'superior quality morsel.' ......Then the King lifted Sarah to his wide, grinning mouth. She froze in fear. But he did not pop her in. Instead he carefully extended his flexed tongue and lightly brushed the tip of it up against her exposed body, after which he pronounced her to be a 'superior quality morsel' as well. She joined Jonathon in that golden bowl, as the multitude of beings in the galleries broke into thunderous applause.

And then, in a thin, microscopic sliver of time, it was over. Our twosome now found themselves in another place, a sunkist place fresh with the scent of the sea. For they were in the expansive, marble entry hall of the ghost of The Great Library of Alexandria. Structures also can have spirits too, you know. An old man with a short, white beard,  stepped out of the ether to welcome them. The first 'day' of school was about to begin...

IN THE HALL OF THE MOUNTAIN KING

Sometimes reality can waiver. Things can vary. And the fabric of creation may have nubbins in the weave. That's how it was for our two vampires. The bright eyed rabbits were the first to change. Sarah saw it and she nudged her mate. She pointed. He saw too. The rabbit had tiny, human hands. It sat at the side of the well worn trail and it waved to them. Jonathon automatically waved back. Sarah just nodded. The guide, this time a gnarled, old man, cackled like a dried up brujo (wizard/warlock). But no one stopped, as wind-blown tendrils of shredded clouds tickled a cheesy moon. And the crickets chirping in the brush all sang the same sad tune. An airplane hummed its way across the ridgeline in the distance. Though that's not what it was. Those closer saw a noble mount, a dragon fly writ large, upon which sat an elf-eared vampirina hurrying off on some enchanted business. Jonathon said - Where are we? What has happened to the trail?......Why nothing - croaked the crepe-skinned man - The trail is quite the same. T'is merely your weak grasp on things, which lately has grown lame.......And then he began to skip and caper about like a sylvan faun. After a breath or two, that's what he was. One blink and he is gone. Now let me (Johannan) take a moment here to explain what is at hand. And how these changes in the pitch effect the nearby land. Everything we see and touch is made of tiny points. Yet where each rubs against the next depends how God annoints each tiny orb with Heaven's light ('lectricity to you) for each, small variation paints  the universe anew............And for those self-limiting nabobs with an aversion to poetry, let me say this...Hey, you saw The Matrix didn't you? Well, it's a little bit like that. The universe repeats, except the notes of music dance their own  tune on the sheets. So that's it. Why? Because the Mountain King asked his friend, Saint Michael the Archangel. And that stalwart celestial general made petition to the Saphire Throne . The request was granted.  The Mountain King relaxed, safe in a crag upon the heights with secrets all its own.  You won't find it. Go and try forever and a day. Unless you get an invite and the King calls you that way.....And what happened then?....A huge dense cloud of night flies settled on our blood-kissed two, each nipping off some flesh or bone until their 'form' was through. Then off they flew, upon the wind . And streamed in through a crack. Each spitting out a drop of  gore until our vamps were back....Their legs were weak. Their hearts beat fast. Their tongues no longer spoke.The Mountain King just roared and laughed. He loved this sickening joke. He thanked the flies, his 'Scotties,' for the 'beaming up' they did. Then sent them crowding through a hole into the place they hid.....Who comes here!? - growled the 'diety' upon his rough hewn seat, as Jonathon stepped forward on his still quite shaky feet. While other members of the court leaned forward and looked down.  His Sarah wished she'd brought from home some 'dressy' type of gown........That's it. They're here. It all starts now. The mysteries they'll know. But come back again tomorrow night (Johannan wants it so). For I have other dreams to dream. And other brows to kiss. While some of you, I am quite sure, must need to take a piss.............

AN IBERIAN PROCESSION

Sarah and Jonathon made their way through the interior of  Spain. Sometimes one guide would lead them, sometimes another. All were laconic and silent. And they walked, as if on Pilgrimage, for in all actuality, they were. Each morning they the two vampires and their 'handler' found refuge in a different cave. It's odd how little a life-eater really needs. Mansionettes in Chestnut Hill are completely superfluous. Hard packed dirt floors are enough. One night, they had dreams. They had visions. Jonathon discreetly stole away to cull his target. Sarah did the same. He drained a heartless weapons dealer. She delicately killed a remorseless poisoner who was just about to slip the 'juice' to husband number three.That's how it was, until they left the flat, semi-arid plains and towns of the table lands and began to climb up hill.

'Africa starts south of The Pyrennes.' The Romans believed that. So did the Moors. And when you look at the dry, severe landscapes, or explore the picturesque, thick-walled peasant towns it seems true. Vultures wheel overhead, jackal-like foxes scrape for voles and ageless strains of cattle low in the dusty distance. But our two miraculous beings travelled in the opposite direction. That mountainous barrier was their destination. Was this planned?  No, not really. But in the life of a vampire, what is? Sometimes the guide for this part of the journey would hum old Basque songs. sometimes he would not. Sarah asked him the name of their destination. He just shrugged and laughed. Jonathon tried to read things in the wind. He tried to squeeze into the mind of he who led them. He attempted to finesse his way beneath the skulls of sleeping townsmen,  the better to search for clues. Yet clues were not  forthcoming.

One night, Sarah asked the guide if it would be alright if they tried to sublimate the rest of the way. It's not that she was tired. Vampires may know boredom. They may know ennui. But they never grow truly fatigued. When the guide realized she was speaking to him, he uttered one word - No....And then he just kept going. So did they. Sometimes, during the bright time, during the day, they would find solace in each other's embrace. A cave may not offer much, not even privacy, for through it all, the guide would just sit there, leaning against the undulating wall, eyes closed, humming to himself. But he did not care.

After a time there came a night when small things started to change. The air grew dry and cool. The ground less hard and bare. Bright eyed rabbits watched them pass in the moonlight, as night doves whispered their names. Strange voices called out to them. Yet did they, or was that but a delusion? The latest guide, this time a woman, spoke a bit. She said - Listen at first and draw it in. Sit quietly and learn. Sing the songs the 'teachers' sing. And smell the wands (incense tappers) that burn......... But that was all she said. The way grew steeper after that. At least she gave them cheap, new, canvas tennis shoes. And they were grateful. So they climbed. Jonathon thought of his long dead mortal family. While Sarah thought of him........